Bury Me
by mse924
Summary: Sequel to "Awake My Soul". Puckleberry with a side of Mike/Quinn.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Oh hi there, welcome back. This is a follow up to my first story "Awake My Soul". Not completely necessary to have read that one first, but it can't hurt. I know I totally lied about waiting until after the holidays, but I started writing today and couldn't stop, so it's looking like I'll probably get a chapter or two up in the next few days. Until then, a prologue to whet your appetite. :)**

**Story and chapter title come from the incomprable band Guster. And once again, the music nor the characters don't belong to me. Sadface.**

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Spring in Chicago is not all that different from Winter. Instead of nice clean snow, the streets and sidewalks instead were covered in piles of dirty brown slush. Puck jumped over a particularly nasty pile of the street sludge as he crossed the street to Rachel's townhouse to pick her up for their date. They had been together since having "The Talk" on New Year's Day. Now, almost four months later, they were more or less inseparable. And really? Puck wouldn't have it any other way. He was still worried that he was living in some sort of dream land with Rachel, and that one day he was suddenly going to wake up and realize that the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.

Bounding up the front steps, he knocked twice on the door of the townhouse before he let himself in. The knock was only a formality. His usual technique of just walking in had backfired once when, two months into his and Rachel's relationship, he had walked in to find Rachel's roommate Kelly running around the house in a towel trying to get ready for a date. While Puck obviously appreciated the free show, it led to a very long and detailed conversation with Rachel about respecting boundaries and Puck really didn't want to have to go through that again.

"Rach! I'm here! Get your cute ass out here before Kelly gets jealous and tries to hit on me again!"

"Nice try Puckerman" Kelly's voice yelled from the kitchen. "I would rather listen to Rachel practice her songs for another 3 hours than come near you."

"It was only 45 minutes!" Rachel bounded down the stairs and pressed a kiss to Puck's lips. "Hi."

"Hi yourself. I missed you." Puck's hands settled on her waist as he returned the kiss.

"And you call me a drama queen. I just left your apartment this morning." Rachel tore herself away from Puck's grasp and slid her arms into her brown leather jacket. "Ready?"

The smirk on Puck's face was undeniable. "I'm always ready babe."

Puck couldn't help but laugh at the epic eye-roll his response elicited from Rachel. She tolerated his shit, but that sure as hell didn't mean that she went along with it. "Fine. Lunch and movie first. Then you can have a taste of the sweet Puckerone lovin'. Maybe we can even get Kelly to come to her senses by then." He made sure to yell the last part loud enough to be heard in the kitchen.

"Hey Rachel" came the response. "Have I mentioned that I have several lovely, polite coworkers that are dying to be set up with you?"

Rachel cracked up at the pouty look that came across her boyfriend's face. "Don't dish it out if you can't take it Noah. Now let's get out of here before Kelly attempts to murder you."


	2. You've dreamed a thousand dreams

**A/N: Whoo! Excited for all the alerts on this new story. Hope not to disappoint everyone! That said, this is kind of another filler chapter. I have the next two chapters after this already written but was having a hard time figuring out how to get there. Apologies in advance if you've read "Awake My Soul" already, because part of this chapter is a very rough retelling of the first chapter of that story, but from Rachel's POV. I promise that the Puckleberry love will resume in earnest in the next chapter :)**

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Rachel Berry was never the kind of girl who had ever needed a savior.

She was her own rock. Even through the years of being tormented mercilessly at the hands of the immature idiots that roamed the halls of William McKinley High School, she had prided herself on being able to maintain a tolerable equilibrium between letting her inner star shine as brightly as possible and running far enough under the radar to avoid being slushied into oblivion. And all the while she was carefully crafting a life plan which allowed her to achieve her ultimate goals in the most efficient way possible.

Which is exactly why Rachel still found it so hard to believe that she had allowed herself to fall head over heels in love with Noah Puckerman. Men hadn't really factored into her timeline for her 20's. Widespread fame in the New York theater community was expected. Favorable write-ups in the trade journals following her debut performance in an off-Broadway show would lead to her securing a leading role in a larger marquee production. And after that, it would only be a matter of time before she had cemented her place in theater history.

But the plan changed. The bright lights and bustling streets of New York City were replaced with the (slightly dimmer) bright lights and (much colder) bustling streets of Chicago. Rachel's time on the east coast during college had caused her to realize that being a big fish in Lima was roughly equivalent to a position somewhere in the middle of the food chain in New York. The eventual realization that Broadway stardom would most likely be only a possibility, rather than an inevitability, had propelled Rachel westward to what she considered to be the next best choice.

That first night out in Chicago, Rachel had no expectations. Chicago was merely a different route to the same inevitable goal and she agreed to attend the party with her new roommate as an attempt to bond with the only person she knew in the city besides the other actors at her theater. Having social interaction with the other members of the city's artistic crowd could only be beneficial to her burgeoning career.

Despite Kelly's best attempts to introduce her to as many people as possible, Rachel had felt competely out of her element. Every person she met had an established career in the arts or literature or music, and after each cursory conversation Rachel sank more and more into a funk. _She _should have been able to record the current Top 40 hit. _She _should have been the stunning young ingenue discovered singing in a local coffee shop. _She _should have authored the fastest-selling mystery novel in modern history. How did all of these other people seem to have immediate success, while her most memorable accomplishment to-date was tripping while walking out of a diner in Manhattan and accidentally flashing Matthew Broderick.

Finding solace in a large glass of wine and the sparkling lights of the city, Rachel had sequestered herself on the outdoor balcony of the condominiumm where the party was being held and tried to decide her most effective method of escaping from the party. The options had been narrowed down to feigning illness (too boring?) or throwing herself off the balcony (too dramatic?) when a strangely familiar voice had broken her reverie.

Rachel was not really surprised to find that some of her former acquaintences were also residing in Chicago. She had heard through the gossip lines (aka. Kurt's dramatic mass-emails filled with copious amounts of exclamation points and questionable speculations) that Mike and Quinn had kindled a relationship after high school and were living together somewhere in the midwest. The exact city hadn't really seemed like a pertinent detail to Rachel at the time. The emails, however, had failed to mention the key point that the couple was also currently sheltering one reformed badass named Noah Puckerman.

After the obligatory small talk and catching up, Rachel had started to realize that all three of her former classmates had changed over the years. Quinn had mellowed noticeably, and was now focusing her Cheerios-fostered attention to detail on the financial documents of a large corporation. Mike was still endearingly himself, and was now getting paid to pop-and-lock as a professional choreographer. And Noah, the most indifferent of all her classmates in high school, had become the authority figure he had hated the most. A high school teacher.

As much as it pained her to admit it, Rachel was extremely relieved to suddenly have four times as many friends in the city.

Rachel was easily welcomed into their dysfunctional little family. If any of them felt any unease over the glaring fact that she was never really friends with any of them in high school, they didn't show it.

And as the friendships developed, Rachel couldn't help but notice that her strange, unexplainable attraction to Noah had rekindled as well. He was still the same self-proclaimed badass from high school, but the mohawk had been replaced with a longer hair and his sense of fashion had moved away from t-shirts and jeans. His eyes lit up when he described how much he loved his job teaching science in a public school on the south side of the city and the amount that he had matured was undeniable. Despite the admirable changes, Rachel couldn't help but wonder if he still went through women like tissues. Or if he still had his nipple ring. Not she really thought about it. Much. The loud success-driven voice in her head screamed at her to fight the effect he had on her. Because reigniting a (short-lived) high school relationship? Still not in the plan. Not even the modified one.

But after a full month of dancing around the issue (and one confirmation on New Year's Day of Noah's mutual attraction), Rachel decided that plans were meant to be broken. Or at the very least heavily modified. Perhaps what she really needed was a leading man. A companion to critique her performances and accompany her to cast parties. And if that leading man happened to be someone who had already seen her at her lowest point and still managed to find her attractive? That was only a bonus.


	3. Never be the kind

Rachel leaned up against Puck's shoulder and sighed with contentment, listening to the rumble of the train as it propelled them home. She had somehow been able to get out of performing in the evening show, so Puck had met her at the theatre after the matinee and taken her to a late dinner at a nearby cafe. They were now on the way back to her home for the evening and Rachel hoped to soon be sleeping soundly in the comfort of her soft bed. She had just began to drift off to sleep when she felt Puck gently lift her head off his shoulder.

"Noah, this isn't our stop."

"I know. Come on." Puck reached for her hand and pulled her towards the door as the train pulled up to the platform. Rachel skittered next to him, trying to keep up with his determined strides as he quickly moved out the train door and down the stairs to the street.

"Noah, would you please tell me where you're taking me? I'm exhausted and cold and I just want to go home."

"Nope."

He continued to drag her along down several streets until they finally turned and headed towards the door of an older, well-kept condo building. Puck tore his glove off with his teeth and fumbled in his coat pocket for something. He finally pulled out a keyring and, after jingling it at Rachel with a grin, proceeded to use one of the keys on it to open the front door of the building.

"Um...I really didn't sign up for breaking and entering this evening. Could you please tell me what's going on?"

Puck shook his head and put a finger over Rachel's mouth to quiet her as he nudged her towards the elevator. Once inside, he hit the button for the fifth floor and then leaned back against the wall with a smirk on his face. Rachel really hated that smirk. It was the one he used when he was trying to cover up the fact that he was in the process of doing something that she might not like. It was the one that he used when he was scared shitless of his girlfriend.

The elevator shuddered to a stop and Puck resumed his vice grip on Rachel's hand as he pulled her out into the hallway and continued his quick pace. He abruptly stopped in front of one of the doors and effortlessly unlocked it before gesturing Rachel inside.

"So babe, what do you think?"

Rachel's eyes adjusted for a moment as Puck flipped a switch and the room was filled with a bright artificial light. She was standing in the foyer of what appeared to be a rather nice, newly-remodeled condo. "It's nice?"

"Damn right it is."

"Whose is it?"

Puck broke into a huge grin.

"Noah, did you bribe some poor old lady into signing over her title to you? Because I saw this episode of _Dateline_ once where a guy..."

"Babe I didn't off some geezer to get this place. I bought it. With money. Although now that you mention it, I probably could have saved myself a lot of dough if I _had_ seduced some broad into handing it over."

Rachel pursed her lips and glared at him. "Why. Did. You. Purchase. This. Place?"

The grin slid off Puck's face and he shrugged. "Dunno. I've been saving money for a while. Figured that since I have to move out of Mike and Quinn's after the wedding anyway, I might as well move somewhere good."

Rachel stared at him with a look that clearly said _Who the hell are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?_

"While I believe that is probably the most adult statement I've ever heard you make, Noah, I can't help but wonder if this really a sound financial decision. I don't want you to be living under a train platform 6 months from now because all of your income is redirected to paying off the cost of purchasing this condo. And you know that Kelly would be less than pleased if you tried to camp out at our place for any period of time."

Puck stared down at his shoes and muttered. "That'swhyIwantyoutomovein".

A look of confusion passed across Rachel's face. "You what?"

"Well in case you hadn't noticed Babe, I kind of love you. And I figured it would be a good investment for both of us. Not to mention the fact that I need your help with the mortgage."

Rachel stared at him, shell-shocked. She had imagined that eventually they would have this conversation. Living in the city was expensive and Rachel knew that she couldn't take advantage of Kelly's kindness forever. She just hadn't expected it to happen after only 4 months of dating. Or for it to include a mortgage payment.

"Noah, I don't..." Rachel sighed. "Can we just go home and discuss this?"

Puck's face dropped in unison with the way he dropped Rachel's hand from his. "This _is_home Rach. _Our_ new home. What's there to discuss?" _Shitfuckdamn. This is why the Puckerone doesn't do grand gestures. _

"This is a huge decision. I love you, but I can't just agree blindly without thinking of the consequences. I really think we need to talk out the ramifications of making such a life-changing choice. Together."

The hurt that flashed in Puck's eyes was unmistakable, but was quickly replaced by rapidly-growing anger. "Take it or leave it babe. Decision is made on my end. If you don't like it then please tell me now so I can get on with my life."

The second the words were out of his mouth, Puck's stomach sank. _Thinking before speaking Puckerman. Learn how to do it. _

Rachel spun on her heel and wrenched the heavy front door open, desperately wanting to get out of this place and away from him before the tears that were pooling in her eyes started to cascade down her cheeks. Without turning around, she mustered up all her strength and willed her voice not to crack. "Feel free to contact me when you are willing to discuss this like an adult."

As the door slammed shut, Puck dropped to the floor and banged his head against the wall with a thud. _Crap. _


	4. Start it all again

**Happy New Year! I think my muse may have taken an extended holiday vacation, because I had a heck of a time writing this chapter. Any reviews are appreciated! And more importantly, I'd love ideas on where you, the readers, would like to see this story go next. Because I'm fresh out of ideas at the moment. :)**

**As always, nothing belongs to me except the story.**

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"You are a serious fucktard."

Puck grabbed one of the pillows from under his head and threw it in the general direction of where Quinn's grating voice was coming from. "Screw you Fabray."

"No. Screw you Puckerman. Are you missing some sort of chromosome that causes you to constantly fuck up every good thing that comes into your life? I spent three freakin' hours on the phone last night listening to your girlfriend alternate between pure rage because you treated her like shit, being proud of you for trying to make future plans with her and sobbing because she thinks she lost you. Which, to be honest, doesn't really seem like all that much of a loss right now."

Trying to avoid any sudden movements that would cause his queasy stomach to revolt, Puck slowly sat up on the couch where he had passed out drunk only a few hours ago. After Rachel left, he couldn't go back to his apartment because he knew as soon as she calmed down she would be on the phone to Quinn, telling her how much of an idiot he was. Instead, he took up residence on a stool at the Irish bar down the street and spent the rest of the night drowning his sorrows in Jack and Coke. "Tone down the screeching Quinn. Don't you think I know that I screwed up?"

Quinn pushed his legs out of the way and sat down on the couch next to him. "You seriously bought a place to live? A place to live with her?" She shook her head increduously, but with a growing smile on her face. "You really love her don't you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe Blondie. I thought I was doing a good thing."

"You did do a good thing" Quinn admitted. "You did it in a ridiculous and insane manner, but it was good. Your presentation really could have a used a ton of work though. Rachel's a planner, Puck. She needs pro and con lists and charts and to hash out the hypotheticals. You can't just spring something like that on her without discussing it with her."

Puck dropped his head back against the couch cushion. "You're going to tell me how to fix this, right?" _Please tell me how to fix this. I can't lose her._

Quinn rolled her eyes at his desperation. "I know your heart is in the right place, but I think you guys really just need to give each other some time to cool off. You're both too emotional. Give her a couple days to sort her head out and then you guys can talk this thing through."

"When did you get so smart?"

"It's a gift. Now could you please kindly get your ass up and go take a shower? I would prefer my couch not to smell like a Jack Daniels factory anymore."

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Puck waited exactly 36 hours after his talk with Quinn before deciding he couldn't wait any longer. Immediately after work on Monday afternoon, he went straight to Rachel's townhouse and took a seat on her front stoop to wait. And wait. He knew the theater was closed on Mondays so he hoped that Rachel would be home sooner rather than later. Otherwise he may have to call Mike to bring him a pillow or a burger or something. Waiting on a concrete step was not exactly the most comfortable thing in the world.

After an hour and a half of waiting (and several phone calls from Mike telling him to "man up and stop being such a needy little girl"), he finally saw her round the corner and walk towards home. Puck's heart ached at the sight of her. Long dark hair piled up in a messy bun and giant sunglasses covering her gorgeous eyes, she had her iPod on and he could see her mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to. It hadn't even been two days, but he missed her like they had been apart for years.

"Rachel." Her head snapped up at the sound of her voice and the sight of his hunched body on her stoop.

"Noah."

Instinctively, Puck stood up and reached out to take the shopping bags from her hands. Rachel let him, but didn't say a word. She didn't even realize how hard her hands were trembling until she tried to put the key into the lock to open the front door and it took her four tries before she succeeded in unlocking it.

Puck noticed her shaking hands but didn't say anything. That had to be a good sign, at least. If she didn't want him to be there she would have screamed at him already and told him to get the hell out. Still, it killed him inside to see her so nervous around him.

He silently followed her inside and stood awkwardly in the foyer as she disappeared into her bedroom, not sure whether she was going to talk to him or just lock her bedroom door and wait for him to leave. Regarding the bag of groceries still in his arms, he headed to the kitchen and began unpacking the food. He was folding up the bag and putting it in the pantry when Rachel materialized in the doorway.

"What do you want? I really don't feel like having a shouting match right now."

Puck took a deep breath and turned to face his girlfriend. "I just want to talk Rach."

"Go ahead."

"Babe, I'm not good with words."

"I'm well aware of that Noah. People who are good with words don't make major property purchases without consulting the person who is going to be helping pay for said purchase. They talk it out. With words."

Puck sighed. "Rach, I'm sorry. I should have talked you."

Rachel stared at the man in front of her. In all the time she'd known him, the only other time she'd seen him look this defeated was after he gave away Beth. Her normally cocky and confident boyfriend was standing with slumped shoulders and sad eyes, completely at a loss of what to say. She hated the fact that her reaction to his (somewhat unconventional) declaration of wanting to be with her long-term had caused him to look like this. Tears began to course down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Noah. I shouldn't have left like that."

Puck faltered at her apology.

Crossing the kitchen, he reached his arms around Rachel and crushed her tiny body to his. "No apologies. Ever." He buried his face in her hair and relished the feel of her arms around him and the way that their bodies fit together.

"You know I never want to lose you, right?" Rachel sniffed and nodded against his warm body. "Unless you keep rubbing your snot on my shirt. Then we might have problems."

Rachel leaned back and slapped him on the chest. "I hate you" she muttered weakly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"No you don't. You love my dumb ass just as much as I love your crazy one." Puck stared at her for a second with a grin before his face went serious again. "I really do want you to live with me. I know I was kind of a shithead about the way I asked you, but that doesn't mean I don't want it to happen."

Breaking from his embrace, Rachel sat down at the kitchen table and pushed a notebook and a stack of papers over to Puck. "I was doing some calculations this morning and depending on what kind of rate you got, I think that between the two of us we should have more than enough money to be able to afford the mortgage payments without going broke." She paused. "Noah, are you listening?"

Puck stared at her in amazement. "Does this mean you're agreeing to move in with me?"

"I kind of thought that was obvious."

Without missing a beat, Puck was next to her. Pulling her up out of the chair, he hungrily pressed his lips to hers as he lifted her up onto the table.

"Noah...I spent a long time on those charts. Can you please move them off the table?"

"Don't ruin the moment Rach."

Rachel pulled his face away from hers and stared at him.

With a growl, Puck swept his arm across the table and knocked the the papers to the floor before pressing her back onto the table.

Because really? At this moment he'd do pretty much anything for her.


	5. We'll be alright, we'll be easy

**A/N: This is kind of a random one shot within the current story. For those of you not familiar, the White Sox and Cubs are Chicago's two professional baseball teams, and they have a huge rivalry that dates back over 100 years. They play each other a few times a year and the games are always fun and loud and ridiculous. If you really feel inclined, wikipedia "Crosstown Classic" for more info. And if Puck were a Sox fan, he would totally own an AJ Pierzynski jersey because the dude is a badass who likes to punch other players and was a professional wrestler. **

**I apologize in advance if you are a Cubs fan because, well, they are the far inferior team :)**

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For Puck, the arrival of summer in Chicago meant one thing: baseball. He loved all the sports he played in high school, but baseball had always been his favorite. Football games were cold and muddy and dark. Basketball was played in a stuffy gym. But baseball meant the smell of cut grass and the feel of warm sunshine. It was the only sport that allowed him to eat while playing. He also really enjoyed the fact that his position as catcher allowed him to talk a whole lot of shit to batters on the opposing team.

Which is why his birthday gift from Rachel was probably the best one ever. She had gotten them tickets to the White Sox-Cubs game at US Cellular Field. Since moving to Chicago and taking a job at a school on the city's South Side, Puck had become a die-hard Sox fan. These were his people. Loud, obnoxious, and fiercely loyal to their team. Sometimes he would add Sox-related extra credit questions to the tests that he gave his students. He had even contemplated getting a Sox tattoo, but had killed that idea when Rachel threatened to kick his ass all the way back to Lima if he "permanently marred his impressive physique withe a sports-related logo".

Puck nudged his aviators up onto his forehead as he stepped thorough the condo door and kicked the door closed behind him, careful not to drop the tray of take-out coffee balanced in this hand. "Berry, I'm home! Ready?"

"Bathroom!"

Puck stopped in the doorway to admire the view of his girlfriend as she finished getting ready. Tiny denim shorts, sandals and a blue and red Cubs shirt.

_Fuck. No._

"Berry. Absolutely not. Please take that monstrosity of a shirt off immediately."

Rachel finished braiding her second pigtail and turned around to look at her boyfriend, who was currently staring at her withe a look of complete disgust.

"Noah, I already told you that the birthday sex comes later. I'm not taking my clothes off right now. We're going to be late if we don't leave." Rachel grabbed her coffee out of his hand and sipped it slowly, smiling to herself as she waited for the verbal explosion that was coming. _3...2...1... _

"Woman, you know exactly what I mean. I will not be seen in public withe you wearing that shirt. We are going to a White Sox game. That means you wear a White Sox shirt." Puck gestured to his black A.J. Pierzynski jersey. "None of this shit". Puck waved his hand up and down dismissively at the offending garment.

"Noah..."

"It's my birthday!" He muttered petulantly. "You should be trying to make me happy."

"I am wearing the colors of one of the teams that is playing today. That is in no way out of line. And if you don't stop pouting, I'm not giving you the rest of your present."

Puck glared at the tiny woman standing in front of him withe her hands on her hips, foot tapping against the tile floor. "This might be a serious roadblock in our relationship Rach. There's no way in hell I'm letting any kid of mine be a douchebag Cubs fan."

Ignoring the way her heart leaped when he talked about their hypothetical children, Rachel pressed a kiss to Puck's cheek and pulled him out of the bathroom behind her. "Let's go. I know you want to be to the stadium in time for home run practice."

"Batting practice. It's called batting practice."

"Batting practice IS home run practice when the Cubs are playing Noah." Rachel smirked back at Puck as he let out an angry growl.

"Not cool Rach."

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The train ride to the stadium was filled withe Puck pouting while Rachel talked a million miles a minute about how excited she was for the game. As they got closer to the stadium and the train began to fill up, she even joined a conversation withe a group of Cubs fans standing near them. Puck, meanwhile, could only slide lower and lower in his seat and pretend that he wasn't getting completely turned on by the fact that his girlfriend was talking withe some random middle aged man about on base percentages. As much as he hated to admit it, she actually knew what she was talking about and it was incredibly attractive. Because his body always betrayed him when it came to Rachel, his hand involuntarily slid around her shoulder and pulled her tight against his body. Rachel paused her diatribe about Kerry Wood's ERA to flash him one of her award-winning smiles before turning back to continue talking to her fellow Cubs fan (_Lenny? Sal? Whatever his name was, his beer belly was peeking out from under his too-small blue jersey and Puck really hated the way that he kept ogling Rachel like she was the World Series trophy the Cubs were never going to win_).

Inside the stadium, Puck directed Rachel to the nearest concession stand. Once they had loaded on beer and hot dogs (or a veggie dog in Rachel's case), they settled into their seats. Puck tried to keep a running comentary about the Sox going throughout the game, but Rachel continued to match every comment he had with a statistic or observation about the Cubs. Near the end of the sixth inning, though, Rachel began to quiet down, shifting around in her seat and checking her watch every few minutes

"Everything okay Rach?"

"These seats are uncomfortable, that's all. I think I'm going to take a walk." Groaning inwardly, Puck started to stand up, but Rachel laid her hand on the top of his head and pressed him back down into his seat. "Stay here and watch the game. I'll be back in a bit."

Puck grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. "Have I told you lately how awesome you are?"

When Rachel hadn't returned 20 minutes later, though, he began to get worried. Without tearing himself away from the conversation about the Sox pitching he was having withe the college-aged guys in front of him, Puck tapped out a text to her._ Where are you babe? _As he slid his phone back into the pocket of his cargo shorts, the voice of the stadium announcer boomed over the loudspeakers to announce the seventh-inning stretch.

"And singing 'God Bless America' today, please welcome Chicago theater actress Rachel Berry."

Puck's first thought was not surprise that she was singing, but rather shock that the stadium staff would let her anywhere near the field while wearing a Cubs shirt. Squinting thorough the sunlight down to the field, he saw Rachel standing near home plate wearing a black jersey that looked suspiciously like his own.

_Well fuck me. _

After Rachel had belted out the final note, the guy in front of Puck turned around. "Was that your girl?" he asked, pointing to the empty seat next to Puck.

"Damn straight it was."

The guy chuckled and gestured to the nearby beer vendor with three fingers. He handed two of the bottles to Puck and raised his own to Rachel as she headed down the stairs back to her seat.

"Did you like the rest of your surprise?" Rachel grinned at Puck withe a sly smile.

"Absofuckinglutely I did. But how did you convince them to let a dirty Cubs fan sing?"

"Noah, I have absolutely no interest in baseball at all, least of all in the Cubs. It was just a well-planned ploy to have a little bit of fun with you. Besides, it wouldn't have been as much fun if you had seen me wearing this earlier" Twisting to the side, she pointed over her shoulder at the back of the jersey.

Puck growled lowly in his throat. His girl had just sang in front of 40,000 people while wearing a jersey with his name across the back.

Rachel is pretty sure the fireworks she saw as Puck kissed her were way better than the ones that the stadium set off minutes later when the Sox won the game.

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**A/N: Not really a whole lot of plot advancement in this one, but I'm still having a bit of a mind block about where I want this story to go next. I'm hoping that by writing a few of these fluffy filler chapters I'll be able to get some ideas and get the plot train rolling again. Also, be sure to check out my one-shot "Mommy's Boy". Thanks for reading and leave some feedback! :)**


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